


Safe As Tadpoles

by inelegantly (Lir)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ambiguous Age, First Time, Frogboy Gon, Hunter Killua, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Oviposition, Weird Biology, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lir/pseuds/inelegantly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a monster hunter who frequents the area around Gon's pond. Even though he knows he should feel wary of a person who kills his kind for money, he can't help developing a fondness for the hunter he's befriended, when with Killua he just can't find it in himself to feel truly afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe As Tadpoles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misdre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misdre/gifts).



> This is for [Misi](http://gonsthighs.tumblr.com/) for her birthday. It's a pretty weird premise, but weird or unusual premises are kind of my specialty, and the execution of it is a lot less weird than I originally anticipated.
> 
> It's perhaps relevant to share that male frogs do have cloacas, and that with quite a few species of frog, the males help or solely guard/raise the eggs/young, and in some cases do carry eggs/young inside their bodies in various ways. But beyond this rudimentary research into frog reproduction that I totally did perform, I hope no one is expecting biological accuracy in an AU where Gon is a frog monster and has sex with Killua anyway. 
> 
> Their ages are never stated, so it's possible to handwave them as being whatever legal age readers prefer, though I know I write them so they _feel_ young, and for that reason I still tagged this underage.

-

Gon's head breaks the water just in time to hear the tiniest skid of a pebble across the pond's rocky shore. He knows it's that white-haired boy who periodically comes by, even before his bright eyes light on the familiar shock of hair, even though the boy coming out of the trees is deadly silent when he wants to be. Gon's feet kick in a smooth, spreading arc, driving him swiftly toward the shore. 

He used to see the boy in the woods sometimes, when he ventured out of his pond, but he can't do that any more. 

Gon can't abandon the raft of eggs floating on the water like seafoam, tethered to each other and to the thick trunk of a fallen tree jutting far across the pond's surface. He has to watch them, guard them, make sure no animals try to eat them. He doesn't know what would happen if he left them long enough to go into the forest; he has to take advantage of the boy's presence by his home while he can. 

"Hey!" he calls out cheerfully, as he propels himself into the last deep dip of water before the shallows along the shore. 

"Hey yourself," the boy says, strolling forward until his sneakers are daring the ripples of the pond's subtle waves to reach them. His hands stay shoved in his pockets. 

He smells like blood, like quick death, sharp and acrid on the back of Gon's tongue when he breathes in. He _kills_ things like Gon, and the remembrance hits Gon all at once, sending an electric ripple of fear prickling all the way down his spine. It puts him on high alert, makes his blood buzz with the awareness of danger that comes from being hunted, but he doesn't shy away. He just takes another breath in, holding the taste of the threat warm inside his mouth. 

"Did you have a job today?" he asks, bright and curious. 

"I – yeah," the boy says, like he's been caught off-guard. 

Gon grins, at the victory in that, at the joy of being right. It wasn't a hard guess; his friend only smells this way if he's been doing work. He might hunt monsters, but Gon feels safe as tadpoles, because no one would ever pay his boy to hunt him. 

"You smell like work," Gon says, not thinking twice of how it sounds. 

The boy almost-flinches, making a reflexive little jerk of surprise before offering the particular crooked grin that Gon knows so well. It stays on his lips when he asks, "Is that so?" 

Gon nods, firm on the exhale from another sharp breath, the smell of predator by then so thick in his nose that nothing else can overtake it. His boy smells like work, like the tang of sweat and the sour of his success, an overall aroma that should startle Gon back into his pool so his head ducks all the way out of sight, but which only has him paddling faintly closer. There's a magnetic pull to it, and he remembers his raft of eggs, floating just out of sight, and remembers that there are still ways he has to tend to them. 

"Hey, Killua?" he starts, reveling in the little shiver he picks off his boy's skin, not so much a motion as a feeling of heat he can perceive from some sixth sense awareness native to his species. "You're pretty impressive, aren't you?" 

"I guess you could say that," Killua replies with badly-posed modesty. "I think I'm pretty cool." 

Gon grins, and heaves himself a last length closer, pulling himself out of the water to crouch where the waves coming in along the shore will only just keep him damp and comfortable. His knees pull up, toes spread across the rocks and hands braced between them, all of him glistening a moist brown-green in the late afternoon sun. 

He doesn't stand up, his legs feeling so much more comfortable at an angle, bent in a pose most like the frogs he's distant cousin to, but he does tilt his head to the side. It's an inquiring look, a weighing look, seizing Killua up even though he thinks he'd made his decision as soon as the possibility occurred to him. 

"Hey, Killua," he says again, not a question this time, not exactly. "Will you kiss me?" 

Killua splutters, a wet, thick mouth-sound like he's tripping over his own tongue, before he bites his teeth down on it. "Gon!" he barks out when he's able. "You don't just ask people to kiss you. Every time I almost forget that you're – you know." 

He waves his hand at all of Gon, like he's trying to take in the speckles down his back and the round shapes of his elongated toes and the shining brightness of his too-huge eyes all at once, things that Gon knows he is, without knowing or caring why it matters. "You say something like that, and I have to remember." 

Killua doesn't finish with "that you're a monster," though, and Gon finds that inexplicably touching. Stupid, too, because he knows he's one, just like he knows the word slicks over Killua's tongue like a bad taste when he has to say it around Gon. It's considerate, but so pointless. It makes him grin too wide all the way across his face. 

"I know," he says. "But will you?" 

Killua laughs, so that it's almost a scoff, so that there's a little disbelieving edge to it. He laughs like he's going to refuse, but he goes entirely stiff just for a moment and then limber again, and Gon knows he's going to drop to kneel on the pebbles instead before Killua even bends his knees to do it. He ends up right on Gon's level, nearly nose to nose. 

"Yeah," he says. "I guess. Since you asked." 

Gon has never kissed anyone before, what with being young enough that this is his very first brooding, but he throws himself into it with a boundless enthusiasm that belies his inexperience. He darts forward as soon as he has the okay, pressing his mouth to Killua's quickly, though not hard. As soon as he makes contact he melts, his smile shaping itself against Killua's lips because he can't stop his own mouth from curving up. 

He thinks, maybe, that Killua's lips are curving too. The thrill of victory rises in his blood, heady and laced through with a sheer, simple joy at being indulged. Killua's lips are unexpectedly soft, drier than the slick of Gon's skin and remarkably pliant. He kisses Gon harder than he'd thought to try on his own. 

Killua's pants are getting damp from the wet rocks he's kneeling on, the birch-bark white of them darkening to a dirtier gray even where they aren't banded like the trees Killua camouflages himself among. They're already clinging to his legs, so it's no problem when Gon slides forward, knees moving to bracket Killua's hips as he drops himself onto Killua's lap. His hands are at Killua's shoulders, fingers curled around the bracing shapes of bone, the fine webs between them sticking to Killua's shirt. 

Killua makes a sound against Gon's mouth at the sudden weight of him, but hardly pauses. 

That earns him a rising trill out of Gon's throat, rich with the peeping undertones of his species' mating calls. It's weird when Killua doesn't trill back, to some recessed hindbrain part of Gon's mind running solely on the logic of biological imperative, but the sound Killua does make is deep enough to vibrate Gon's chest. There's an edge to it, with the way it drops into a lower register than Killua's speaking voice, with its current of need just as tangible as the feeling of Killua's hips underneath Gon's thighs. 

He rocks lightly on Killua's lap, and Killua gasps, and Gon thinks that all of this really is even simpler than he first assumed. 

"Hey, Killua," he says against Killua's mouth, as he shifts his seat sideways and back so Killua's breath against his lips stutters and goes uneven. "Will you help me fertilize my eggs?" 

Killua laughs, a sharp, startled sound that Gon can almost mistake for a sob, and for a moment the corners of Gon's mouth turn down with concern. But then Killua is scoffing, actually chuckling, and Gon's worry shifts into irritation that he doesn't get the joke. 

"God, could you say something less sexy," Killua marvels, shaking his head to further telegraph his disbelief.

Gon sticks his tongue out at him. "But that's what I want you to do! I wasn't trying to sound sexy, I was just asking the question." 

Killua is still shaking his head, but the breadth of the motion dwindles down until he's staring straight at Gon again, his expression going soft and contemplative. Gon rocks once, experimentally, against him, and both of Killua's hands snap out to grab his hips.

"Don't _do_ that," he insists. "Jeez, I was trying to make up my mind, the least you could do is not distract me." 

"Sorry!" Gon says, though he really isn't. "So. Will you?" 

Killua bites back what was probably a groan, but Gon is beaming and not in a mood to be deterred by that. Killua composes his features back into a neutral expression with a visible struggle before asking, "What does that... Mean? What do I have to do?" 

A ripple of puzzlement passes over Gon's face, before he gives a careless little shrug. "Do what comes naturally, I guess! It can't be that hard." 

Killua tries to scoff again, but Gon can feel his win coming. Killua already as good as agreed. There's no reason for Gon to worry over Killua's last, lingering vestiges of indecisiveness. He drops his hands from Killua's shoulders to Killua's lap, right in between his own thighs, fingers catching on the fastenings of Killua's pants as he says, "We'll figure it out together." 

Killua's head jerks once, an abrupt sketch of a nod, and Gon beams at him. He leans in again, pressing his mouth to Killua's in another fond kiss, as he fights with Killua's pants fastenings until they come apart under his hands. He fishes inside, cool, slightly-damp palms sliding over hot skin until they close around Killua's length.

That earns Gon a soft little huff, earns him Killua's forehead tipped against his own, and none of it is challenging at all. 

Touching Killua is fascinating, every part of him hotter than Gon's usual body temperature, a radiance like the sun that he can feel even through Killua's clothes. He feels it so much more intensely from direct contact, his hands stroking over Killua just to enjoy the feel of him. Each little gasp and heavy breath out of Killua comes loud in his ears, until Gon is trilling back constantly, the sound rumbling from deep in his throat like a purr. 

It's nice, but not quite what he needs. His own steady humming vibrates through his skin, until all his nerves feel electric, from the soft pads of his fingers against the warmth of Killua all the way down to the clenching place between his legs. He's still a little bit sore, tired, from building even his modest raft of eggs. It doesn't stop him from going higher on his knees, from curling one arm around Killua's shoulder for balance as he presses the soft shape of his belly close against Killua's chest. 

Gon sinks down with a bright, triumphant sigh, drops himself right onto Killua's cock where his hand is holding it precisely in place. It feels so much nicer to take something _in._

"Oh," Killua gasps, low by his ear. 

Gon is still smiling, still shifting, pressing himself close on Killua's lap. "See?" he says. "It's not that hard after all." 

Killua laughs, and Gon can feel the vibration all the way up his spine. His hands fall back to Killua's shoulders for leverage to raise himself up, so that his body tries to clutch onto Killua for every inch that he pulls back. It's unlike the pressure he's used to, but not entirely unfamiliar. The feel of Killua isn't so different from that of his eggs – what's different is that those, his body expels, pushes past his muscles with such strength that he goes tense all over, only to melt into a relieved heap when he succeeds. 

Killua he clings to, tries to keep inside himself, goes liquid around from eager acceptance. Killua is the tense one, strung tight so Gon can feel it under his hands, but he can't help that. He can only help the rhythm of his rocking, steady on Killua's lap, slow at first but gradually building faster. He drinks in every little gasp, every groan, every sound, different than the ones his species make but reassuring him that he's doing this right. 

Then Killua's hips jerk under him, and for a moment Gon is worried, afraid that he's fucked up after all, until all Killua's tension drains out from beneath Gon's hands. 

He feels warmed up from the inside and wants to savor that a moment, pressed close and safe on Killua's lap. He would have kept going, experimentally gives it a try, but Killua's hands snap out to keep his hips in place before Killua shudders out all the breath in his lungs on a sigh. 

"That's it, then?" Gon murmurs, soft, curious. 

"That's it for a human!" Killua gasps out on the breath of what might have been a laugh. "What, it wasn't good enough for you?"

"I didn't say that!" Gon protests. He pushes in closer against Killua again, thighs around Killua's hips. "Thank you." 

"You're making it weird," Killua teases, shaking his head faintly back and forth. "Who says 'thank you' after they have sex with somebody?" 

Gon sticks out his tongue, but doesn't take back his thanks. Thankful is how he feels, warm and catered to, and he lapses into contented quiet for a few long minutes before it occurs to him that maybe he can't stay that way forever. "Hey, Killua," he says. "Will you still come back here?" 

"Of course I'll still come back," Killua scoffs. "What made you think that I wouldn't?" 

"I don't know," Gon says, abruptly no longer worried. As soon as Killua promises to keep visiting, he can't remember why he might have expected anything different. "I just wouldn't like it if you didn't." 

"Well, I will," Killua says, like that's the end of that. 

Gon grins, and stays cuddled with him, until the call of his eggs has him disengaging to flip back into the water, until the pull of responsibility has Killua separating from him to return to his work, parting from each other only until their next meeting. 

-

-


End file.
